Know Thy Self
by Fen-crya
Summary: Set after Aang first appears and escapes from Zuko's ship near the southern water tribe. Zuko finds himself unable to sleep. His uncle offers to help him relax. This time, he won't just be offering tea.  -Incest-  Iroh/Zuko
1. The start of it all

**Know Thy Self**

By Fen-crya

**Rating:** M for Masturbation. xD (And Iroh coping a feel on some serious fire nation skin) **Incest** as well.

**Pairing(s) : **Iroh/Zuko

**Disclaimer**: I do not own, nor do I attempt to own or profit from the characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**N/A:** **Minimize browser window for format originally intended.**

Sup, Bull-Shitzlles. Seriously, I have no idea where this idea came from, but it's been playing through my mind for the past WEEK. I finally had to just write it out to _get_ it out. I'd be lying if I said it didn't creep me out a little. For srs.

I have to listen to music to be able to write. I just recently found my 16 gig USB that had been lost for months. Expect more stories soon.

I listened to Alan's Kuon no Kawa repetitiously while writing this. It's such a beautiful song, and it helped me to keep fluidly writing (especially in the beginning) without too many breaks (something I'm rarely able to do anymore). And for some reason, the music video reminds me of Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Error Status**: Still have no Beta Reader. Too lazy to search for one. Expect errors. : /

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Standing there, glancing out the window of one of the various second floor rooms, Zuko stood to watch the gentle waves that crashed against the sea in lazy bliss. It had been a rather calm and uneventful day, and an equally calm night. The crew had already gone to bed, save for the select few who managed the ship. Zuko wasn't one of them, but that didn't mean he could just lie down and fall asleep so soundly either. He'd had…other things on his mind lately.

"Ah, good evening, nephew. I see you're still awake."

"…I tried sleeping. But I just ended up rolling around. I guess I'm not as tired as I thought I was."

Iroh walked over to him, patting him on the shoulder. He knew the young man all too well to note that the circles under his eyes weren't just from lack of sleep. "Thinking about catching the Avatar?"

"…You could say that…" Zuko just looked out at the sea, thoughts of home on his mind.

"It sounds to me like you are stressing yourself too much. The Avatar isn't going to vanish while to sleep, Prince Zuko. Now that he's returned, you'll have many other opportunities to capture him."

Zuko didn't miss a beat. "I know that, Uncle." He brought a hand up to rub his scarred eye, making sure he didn't scratch the tender skin with his unclipped nails.

"I suppose you do." Iroh stepped up beside him, glancing his way. "Would you care for something warm to drink before bed? I could brew some nice calming chamomile tea for you. It does have such a nice, rich flavor." Zuko had a feeling that his uncle had been talking more to himself than to him.

None the less, his tired mind gave in. He wasn't in the right state of mind to fight. Not really. "I've nothing better to do at the moment."

His uncle smiled, this time patting him on the back of the head like he might an obedient child. "Very well then. I'll be right back with the tea."

Before Zuko knew it, he was alone again. He sighed, breathing in deep a second time before moaning out his frustration. Pale fingers stroked his tired face. Maybe he _was_ a bit stressed out. He'd been pacing nearly all day, knocking down any new thing that came in his path. He'd been angry for no clear reason, taking out his frustrations on anyone who happened to come his way. And if that was all just the recipe of stress, then he might as well be its monument. He really didn't understand why he got so agitated all the time, just that he was. It didn't matter what happened. Most times he would wake up angry and just stay that way for the remainder of the day. It was like an illness he couldn't sweat off.

And here he was, _exhausted_, and unable to sleep. He'd thought about masturbating to take the edge off, as he often did when he needed to expend some of that extra energy he wasted when his mind wouldn't shut up. But he was too busy thinking about other things, and before he knew it he was up and about again. And he certainly couldn't do it now with his uncle knowing he was awake now.

"Alright, I've made the tea, nephew. Won't you come and sit with me?"

Zuko had hardly heard the door opening, and briefly wondered if the door had been closed at all to begin with. He'd been too engrossed in his thoughts to notice such an insignificant thing. He couldn't deny the somewhat sweet aroma this 'calming' tea brought once it was poured into two separate cups. Iroh was already sitting at the small edge table with his legs under him, situating the tea pot and cups as if it were an art.

The younger prince let out a burdened breath and sauntered over to mimic his uncle's posture beside him. He was surprised to find a small portion of what looked like bread next to his cup. It was on a paper covering with a light pink lotus printed on it. Zuko also noticed that Iroh had not brought any for himself.

"Uncle, why did you bring this?" The question was soft and genuine as his finger motioned towards the bread. A warm smile greeted him.

"I thought you might be hungry. You skipped lunch today, after all." The elder picked up the cup in front of him, sipping it leisurely with a calming sigh. "I had hoped to bring you more, but I had a feeling you would not eat a full meal if I had brought one. You tend to get rather finicky when you are upset."

Zuko hung his head, knowing how badly he'd treated his crew early on in the day. He'd even given his uncle a word or two of resentment. Not because he was necessarily mad at him, but because he was just mad in general. And when he was mad, he felt like he needed to break something. Or someone. It was a hard mental state to get out of sometimes.

"I'm…I'm sorry, Uncle."

He slid his hand out across the table slowly to take his wooden tea cup in hand, his path faltering only when another hand placed itself over his. He blinked slowly, once more breathing in the scent of chamomile. The tense muscles lining his upper back cracked as he filled his lungs again with that aroma. He didn't have to look up to see in his uncle's eyes what he could feel through the warmth of his hand.

He understood, just as he always had. "I know."

When his hand was free to move, he almost couldn't find the strength to. Feeling drained, it was all he could muster to bring the cup to his lips. The tea tingled against his pale lips, tingeing them a lovely flush with heat. The taste lingered over his tongue even when he set the cup back on the table. He hated tea― just the very idea of a calming session where people gathered to chatter amongst themselves freely none too memory-worthy to him. But he'd be damned if Iroh's wasn't the best he'd ever tasted.

"You're not hungry?"

Zuko did look over this time, not quite understanding at first. A dimmer kind of amber glimmered back at him while he pondered what it was he'd apparently forgotten. Then he remembered the bread. "I am, a little."

"Good. I wouldn't want you to get sick while we are so far out at sea." Iroh smiled once his nephew started eating, feeling a very paternal kind of accomplishment warm his heart. He sat back with his tea in one hand, his other patting his stomach out of relaxed habit. "Let me know if you are still hungry after you've eaten that. I will gladly bring you something else."

Shrugging the fatherly gesture away, Zuko shook his head while he bit down on the heated morsel. He waited until he'd swallowed that bite before muttering a 'this is fine' statement. He ate the bread in silence with his eyes away to peer at the fire nation decorations covering the wall. The almost mesmerizing sound of his uncle sipping at his tea made him feel unusually comfortable, and he couldn't figure out why. His gaze brought him back to his elder, who sat so lucidly beside him.

"Uncle," He began, swallowing another mouthful of bread. The mostly healed, but still scorched skin just under his jaw line gave an awful twitch after his next bite. He rubbed it passively with the back of his hand after sliding it from his lips, some of the bread crumbs falling into his lap. "Aren't you going to eat anything?"

Iroh merely patted his stomach, chuckling. His eyes had yet to open, even as he took another sip from his cup. "I can assure you that I've already had my fill during dinner. I couldn't eat another bite!"

Through chewing his last remaining bite, Zuko couldn't help but give his cheek a slight scratch. He'd hoped Iroh wouldn't notice, being on his right side. But things rarely escaped his third eye. Zuko knew he'd been caught when he'd finished his bread, taking a large gulp of his lukewarm tea, and finding his Uncle's eyes on him. "…What?"

"Prince Zuko, you wouldn't be scratching your scar by any chance, would you?"

"No", he lied, trying to act like he was still brushing the grainy debris from his face. "Just some crumbs."

There was an awkward moment of silence before Iroh shook his head with a sigh. "Have you forgotten your ointment again, Zuko? You'll get a nasty rash scratching skin that's already very dry. Although a good portion has paled and become much healthier over the years, that wound is still in the healing process. It will do you no good scratching like that."

"No. I'm fine." Suddenly, Zuko felt edgy. Breathing in deep, his upper back cracked out of the sheer strain his tensing had caused. He'd been too caught up with his life lately to even bother with whether or not the burned side of his face stayed well moisturized. He hated having to always be under his uncle's scope. Nothing ever got by him. It agitated the young prince. He found himself a bit catty despite his temperamental disposition. "Besides, a few days without can't possibly hurt it. I'm sure that this whole side of my face isn't going to just peel off and fly away in to the wind."

Iroh's eyes held concern. "True. But this cold weather can still damage. You seem to forget, we are out in the arctic glaciers! The bitter air here can do much to open, dry wounds."

That's right, because a burn this severe would _never_ heal up completely. For this, he would be forever riddled with custom care just to keep the swelling and agitation down. Most types of air, whether frigid or humid, liked to suck the moisture from his pores despite his care. He would never even be able to grow back his missing eyebrow or the gash like shapes near his ear. And he would never regain the full function of his left eyelid. The only thing he found he could be thankful for was that he still could see relatively well out of that eye, despite all odds. His eyelashes were gone, too.

Just thinking about all the cons of his condition got his blood boiling. "It's been three years! How am I supposed to remember to put some stupid aloe on all the time when I have more important things at hand? The Avatar could appear at any moment, and I'd miss him all because I had to put some ridiculous _lotion_ on my face?"

"It is a cooling aloe, technically," Iroh felt the itching need to point out matter-of-factly. "Lotions are solely intended for rejuvenating the skin, and most have a nice fragrance."

Slamming the wooden cup in his hands down and standing up abruptly, Zuko shouted down at his elder, feeling belittled. "_I don't care about fragrances, damn it! That's not the point!_"

Iroh took a little more time in setting his tea aside before he too stood and faced his nephew, waving his arms in front of him in a slow, passive manner. "Please, Prince Zuko, there is no need to get so upset. If you've misplaced the bottle, I will gladly help you look for it."

Try as he might, Zuko's sporadic anger was rising again. He could feel it in his gut. Fuck aloe. He shouldn't have to live the rest of life with a bottle in his pocket just because of a little burn. His breath came out in a loud huff of aggravation. Ok, so it wasn't exactly a _little_ burn. But he was a _prince_, banished or not, and he wasn't supposed to be forced to live this way.

"Alright?"

Zuko swallowed hard, feeling a strong heat burning through the lining in his stomach. "_Fine_," he gritted out, rubbing the unscathed side of his face. There he went again, anger coming out of nowhere and unnecessarily escalating. He needed to calm down before he did something drastic.

Or threw up. He could already taste the bile on the back of his tongue. He didn't favor the taste at all. "It should be on my desk." He swallowed again, his throat burning for only a moment until the acid was forced back into his stomach. There seemed to be a lump in his throat that was trying to gag him into emptying the acid altogether, but he refused to let it happen.

"I will try to be quick." Iroh bowed a little before he took his leave. Zuko walked back over to the window he'd been staring out of before his uncle had come by. He was determined to keep his cool, no matter how frustrated he felt. It didn't seem to be working very well though, as he thought about the events that had transpired since the Avatar's appearance, leading his thoughts back to his own banishment. The anger was rising before calming; an off kind of emotional rollercoaster that had him unstable.

Life sure wasn't as he'd imagined it growing up. His stomach churned. Clenching his fists at his side, Zuko wanted nothing more than to break the window in front of him. Life was laughing at his expense, the wind howling at the toiling of his conquests. He found it infuriating.

"I'll show them," He whispered under his breath, his voice venomous. His hands burned with unbridled fury. "I'll show them all."

He really needed to calm himself. He was starting to get some rather painful chest pains. With how it felt now, his heart pounding in his chest like a heavy taiko drum out of control, he was sure it might explode. He took a deep breath, stuttering it loose. Something else was creeping along his skin in little rivulets of sensations. It wasn't unusual after a fit of rage, but it still caught him off guard. It might have been because he'd chosen his thoughts instead of himself earlier before attempting sleep. Or it could have been his desire to take control over something. He really couldn't tell.

He paused, leaning against the wall and window with a heavy, heated sigh. His brows furrowed, his breath warming the ice ridden glass and creating blossoming circles of clear visibility. The cool air outside contrasted with his body heat, creating a thick layer of fog on the window. Closing his eyes, he willed his body to relax. He turned his head, the damaged side of his face tingling against all the misguided temperatures along the glass.

Zuko found it oddly arousing, whether he wanted to or not. Something about the contrast in ice and fire was so temping against the areas of more sensitive skin―teasing in a way that turned him lecherous; his body his victim. Just to be able to feel the chill running across his skin, only to have it heated―sometimes so close to the precipice of being burned, by his own element. It was certainly a fetish if he'd ever gained one, secret and known only by himself.

Freezing; by itself it was so tempting, a high so rarely thought of it was nearly sacred, and an extreme so shocking that his body often responded instantly. Which is why he was where he was now, he supposed. And as awkward as it might look with his face pressed against the glass pane of the window, while his hands worked along the beginning of his budding erection, the thought of fucking a compact snow bank as imagined in his mind was even more questionable.

Well, good news; he wasn't angry anymore. His stomach had calmed its bitching, his chest heaving a sigh. Bad news; he was now a little more than a little turned on.

He was beginning to regret not taking off the bulk of his uniform earlier. The tight belt encircling his waist was a little too snug for comfort now, and with barely any room to spare, his erection had no choice but to bump up against it. It created a clear outline against both his pants and the outer, thicker shell of his uniform. Two heavy layers of fabric to constrain the natural bend were bad enough, but add in the solid prick of metal at the end and instantly he felt like stripping…Or continuously slamming that metal down against the head of his erection. The teasing weight was unbearable.

But it wasn't unbearable in the sense that it hurt. In fact, he kind of liked having his erection caught in the bit of pressure. It was the pleasure that he couldn't obtain while in this situation that he found difficult. And to make things worse, his uncle was due to be back at any moment. What was he supposed to do? Surely he wouldn't have the time to relieve himself before his elder returned. What if he tried and was caught in the act? What would his uncle think if he found him in the throes of passion against a thawing window pane?

He tried to think of something else, but his thoughts always reverted back to the various ways he could masturbate. No matter how desperately he tried to gross himself out, it was no use. He was irrevocably and undeniably horny. Even the thought of his uncle masturbating backfired. The short vision only fueled his inner fire instead of snuffing it out. It made him feel a little more than awkward and afraid against that little tidbit, he couldn't lie. He thought it best to just derail _that_ train of thought before it reached any kind of destination. So he chose something else.

Thinking back, Zuko couldn't remember when he'd last touched himself intimately. While he usually brushed his erections off as not important, he did occasionally give in to the need when it kept him up at night. But lately he'd been denying himself a lot more since the Avatar had made his grand appearance in the cold waters of the South. This lack of self indulgence was probably the reason for his random fits of anger and lusty mood swings. And he hoped it was also the reason for his weird sexual cravings; like dipping his hard flesh into the below freezing ocean, or bucking against one of the rougher, nail encrusted steel walls in the room just for some rougher texture to grate himself against. It was all equally delicious and torturous. Pain and pleasure, combined with pressure was always a quick way to bring him over the edge. He wasn't sure who to thank for that, or even if it was anyone else's fault but his own.

"Damn it," He cursed, feeling himself grow harder. He looked down, thinking it might be too late to turn back now. At least there were no signs of Iroh returning yet, meaning he still had some time to himself.

He decided to delve a little more in to his little fantasies after his lust driven mind convinced himself that a _little_ fantasizing couldn't hurt before he 'dealt' with his issue. A few things crossed his mind, such as women and― mostly, himself alone. He let a hand ghost over the protruding bump in the cloth below his belt buckle, pushing the palm of his hand downward with a quick push, and pressing his body into it. Hopefully the pre cum wouldn't soak through until he quit the teasing and undid his belt and pants.

He thought of what it would feel like to climax into his own hand, finding the image of himself masturbating to be a tempting reel, and how the foreskin would feel being pinched between his fingertips. He also thought about what it felt like when something, anything, bumped against the slit of his urethra. Sometimes they slid a little in. He knew the sensations, and cherished them while he thrust up against the belt buckle. He made sure to hold the buckle in place while his hips moved in short, subtle waves.

Then, he thought of how much greater it might feel having someone else bring him to climax with _their_ hands. He'd never experienced _that_ before. But that brought on a whole array of darker thoughts, all of them centered on how he was supposed to find a willing partner who would look past his scarred face and humiliating history. That and if they were of other decent; Zuko being fire nation would most likely be an instant rejection. The percentage was depressingly low, a mere .2 to over what, a couple hundred or thousand per nation?

Oh hell. It didn't matter. He would still have himself if no one else complied. He didn't have the time to be depressed about companionship. Or the lack thereof.

Stilling his body, Zuko's rigid fingers worked their tortures over himself. The pleasure heightened just a bit. His mind ran away with itself, sending him visions he was sure he wouldn't produce during any kind of sexual sobriety.

There was still one person above all others who enjoyed his company. And that person would always be there to welcome him when no others would accept him. Instincts told him it was wrong to feel anything but an expected family kind of love, but for some reason his mind was working wonders at correcting that. Zuko entertained the thought for a moment, rolling his hips only slightly and holding the belt buckle in his hands firm until the edge of it jabbed against his urethra. He shivered at the pressure.

Although uncommon among families, especially royal families, incest wasn't instantly banned as taboo; as sometimes during times of war it was necessary to marry one of the same bloodline in order to keep producing strong descendants. It may be frowned upon, but in general it wasn't the highest offense one could commit. And given the circumstance, Zuko saw more pros than cons to his situation. His father, sister, and kingdom alike all hated him. Zhao was hunting him for personal gain in rank _and_ attempting to take away his honor in catching the Avatar. Then there was the wide variety of people who Zuko was sure wanted him dead. What did he have to lose at this point?

Zuko couldn't stop the sudden heat from rising against the window. His breath no longer mattered against a pane of glass that was no longer chilled. He pressed his body firmly against the wall and window, breathing in deeply and enjoying the pressure against his front as metal collided with metal and crashed against his skin.

At the end of the day, no matter what happened…his uncle would always have a pot of tea made and a warm shoulder to lean against. Zuko couldn't deny this adoration for his elder.

He also couldn't deny his current confusion over the insanely sexual images running through his head―of what could happen if they both allowed it; lying together, Iroh's hands roaming his body, burning fingertips warming and playing his skin like a finely tuned instrument.

His whole body went rigid, and he panicked. _'What the hell am I __**thinking**__?'_ He had a strange feeling it wasn't a typical family-bonded love going on up there in his mind. It still held the original properties he'd always felt towards the man who treated him more like a father should, but with what was running through his mind now…

"Damn it," He muttered through gritted teeth. He'd have to take care of the issue at hand before he faced his uncle. Having Iroh see him like this would only embarrass them both. Especially if Zuko did or said anything that might jeopardize their relationship as it stood. He blamed his hunger for the obscure and sometimes unrealistic sexual urges he got. They could get a little out of hand sometimes.

He reached for his belt, fumbling to unclasp it. He'd have to be quick. Ears peeled and eyes open, he made sure to be aware when his uncle returned. Too much time had already been wasted in fantasizing when he could have already had his erection out and dealt with.

He nearly dropped his belt altogether when he heard the footsteps echoing throughout the hallway of the corridors. "Not now…"

How was he going to hide his obvious erection? "Damn it!" He hissed, frantically searching for an idea. His eyes shot over to the table. Thinking fast, he slide over and sat down with his legs crossed, pretending to drink what little tea he had left in his cup. His groin ached from the movement, but he did his best not to look too excited. He felt his face, glad his cheeks weren't flushed.

The tea wasn't much, and it was cold, but it didn't matter. It was the act of drinking it that was meant to be a distraction. Most of his thighs were hidden under the low rise table, and that was most important. He hadn't bothered with re-clasping the belt. It rested on the floor beside him in a heap. Zuko reached down to tug his erection under the tighter folds of fabric to hide any more obvious bulging in case something should go wrong.

Iroh entered the room a second later, a small ceramic bottle in his hand. He had a questionable look on his face when he peered at his nephew's newfound posture. It looked to him like a moment alone had once again helped Zuko to regain his calmer composure. Of course, the pose was something new. "I don't mean to pry, Zuko, but…why are you sitting hunched over like that?"

Zuko coughed, feeling rather uneasy with the consistent throbbing between his legs. "N-nothing serious! My back just hurts a little…" _'My back?'_ He could have kicked himself. _'I'm sixteen years old, I hardly do anything strenuous, and I tell him my __**back**__ hurts?'_

"Well, now that you seem to be in a better mood, would you like me to massage it for you?" Iroh set the bottle on the table, taking his earlier spot next to Zuko. Only he was facing his profile now. Zuko had to take a moment to pull his mind from the gutter to understand what he'd just heard in the _correct_ context. "If you weren't so tense all the time, you wouldn't have so many stiff muscles."

The irony was horrendous. Zuko wanted to slam his face against the table. "No!" Zuko nearly shouted, putting his hands up when Iroh's came close. "I-I mean, I probably just pulled a muscle or something during training. I-It's nothing serious. I probably won't even feel it tomorrow." Hopefully Iroh would buy into it. The younger prince often strained a muscle or tendon that caused him continuous pain from overexposure. It was something that happened a lot during the hardcore training he demanded.

"Is that why you removed your belt as well?"

Zuko visibly swallowed, trying to not look too suspicious. "Yeah," he tried. "It was…too tight."

"Oh, I see." Iroh watched his nephew pretend to drink his cold tea before finally laughing at his expense. "I cannot imagine that tea could still be even relatively warm. Would you like some more?"

Zuko nodded, his shoulders a bit hunched with apprehension. Steam rose as the hand his uncle had on the side of the teapot heated the brew before the small stream of darkened tea landed in his cup. "Thank you, Uncle."

Iroh's smile broadened. "You are most welcome, my nephew."

Squirming in place but still trying to remain unseen, Zuko let the silence overtake their lighthearted conversation. Ripples of pleasure flooded though him each time he moved. He watched as Iroh poured more tea into his own cup, and Zuko continued to drink his mechanically. Tea drinking wasn't exactly on the forefront of his mind.

His uncle handed him the small bottle of medical oil. "You should put some on now, before it gets worse."

Zuko looked around, genuinely stating the absence of what he needed in order to accurately do so. "There are no mirrors in here." Not all of the nerves had been damaged, but enough to where he could get confused as to where his fingers prodded. He needed to be able to see to get the entire scope of the burn, anyway.

"Not to worry, I can put it on for you."

"…Ok." Nodding, he watched as Iroh pulled the cork from the bottle and placed a generous amount on one of his hands. The other he used to dab a few of his fingers into the stuff pooling in his palm, coating them.

"Close your left eye," Iroh instructed, moving to Zuko's other side. Inwardly, Zuko questioned why his uncle had moved himself instead of asking him to turn. But he was also thankful, for he knew his erection would have been visible otherwise. "I need to cover your eyelid too. I'll try not to stain your eye."

Zuko decided to close both. When the thick oil finally met with his skin, it melted into his drying pores. It wasn't cool or hot, but warm like the hands applying it. Another sexually obscure thought crossed his mind against his will. What if he started jerking off while his uncle was massaging the aloe into his skin? Would his uncle be offended? The gentleness of the touch he brought had always been soothing, and right now it did a little more than ease the minor skin irritation. Zuko had to force his hands to relax in his lap before he became too engrossed in what was going on inside his head. His whole body was beginning to tingle, his tongue absent mindedly slithering across his lower lip.

Fingers ran delightful circles over his temple, rubbing only lightly over his ear. They traced a line over where his eyebrow should have been, trailing down to leave a nice thin coat of oil over his eyelid. It was successful in keeping his little fire ignited down below. And Iroh spared no expense at making sure he'd covered the entirety of the burned flesh before pulling back.

"There," his elder announced, wiping his hand on one of the printed clothes on the table. "That should be good for a while."

Zuko nodded his thanks, finding it a little difficult to pull away from his trance and open his eyes. By now he was unpleasantly hard. All he could think of was getting off. He nearly moaned aloud and begged to be left alone.

Iroh easily brought Zuko from his thoughts. "However…I would advise against using your oils for…other purposes. You'll only run out sooner."

That brought his consciousness back to reality. His eyes snapped open, suddenly remembering just where he'd left that little bottle. "W-what?"

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A/N: I really tried to condense this into a single chapter, I really did. The whole story was originally meant to be like…5-6 pages, tops. But 9 pages in…I just had to find somewhere to cut it off. Especially since the remainder of the story will probably be at least 10 pages more or so. I'm such a detail-whore. Sorry guys.


	2. Depression befitting kinks

**Know Thy Self**

By Fen-crya

**Chapter 2**

**A/N:** Alright, here's the second installment. For quality originally intended, I recommend minimizing your browser so it becomes a little box to read the story. The internet likes to mess up my beautiful paragraphs. It bothers me. Probably as much as getting little to no feedback. So you get a shorter chapter. =/

**Dicks.**

**Error Status**: As always, I still have no Beta, so expect shitty writing and spelling/grammatical errors.

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For a moment, Zuko was sure he's lost his breath. His last had caught in his throat, leaving him in a silent state of panic as he tried to think of a way he could slip out of his embarrassment. Or maybe slip out of his skin altogether. He knew he was blushing. He could _feel_ it. And Iroh was giving him a rather odd, knowing look. Zuko didn't know what to make of it. If he ever needed a cock-block, this moment would do it. Panic and shame sure made a good potion to cure a heavy case of the lusty jitters. He'd have to remember that.

Iroh moved the bottle before his nephew's bashful gaze. "I did not find this on your desk as you described. It was beside your bunk on the overhang of the metal frame."

Zuko didn't know what was worse; his uncle _knowing_ he was masturbating at all, or his uncle knowing he was using his _burn cream_ to get the job done. His elder didn't need to be told that touching one's self was a way of life for most. But just _knowing_…it was sure to force him into envisioning the act, if only just a little. There was no way escaping it. The young prince looked down in humiliation, unable to look his uncle in the eyes without accusing him of picturing him naked and jerking off with sanitized burn cream. A calloused hand landed on his back, rubbing in a soothing circle.

"I'm not going to scold you, Zuko. You are, after all, a growing boy." His hands massaged over the back of Zuko's neck, trying to bring him peace. He wasn't sure if it had that effect though. "And there is no need to feel embarrassed. Trust me when I say that you are not the only one on this ship seeking pleasure from time to time."

That was an easy guess. Zuko couldn't imagine anyone not wanting to feel pleasure. The ship they were on was full of men who were usually stranded in the middle of the ocean with no land or willing bodies in sight. The ship kept its slow course further into the unknown most of the time. There was no definite timeline of when they would return to the fire nation, or even when they arrive on land again. It was only natural to know that more than one of the men at any given time would be coping a feel on themselves if they didn't grind a hole in their bed coverings already.

"Uncle, that's disgusting." Zuko grimaced, hunching his shoulders up. It was the perfect opportunity to take the stage light away from him. He tried to take that notion further. "I don't want to envision my men touching themselves."

Iroh surprised him with a hardy laugh. "I am only being honest, Prince Zuko."

And with the beginnings of the light conversation, Zuko could already feel the urgency of his arousal soften. No doubt his heavy embarrassment playing a big role. _Finally_. After what had seemed like hours of wanton stiffness, he was starting to feel less and less like he needed to mount the nearest 'something'.

The mood was easily stultified for the moment. But Zuko knew better than to think he could just brush off his arousal altogether. He would most definitely be spending the night in his cabin exploring his own body. It was the only effective way to rid himself of the feeling altogether. The prince enjoyed the thought of giving himself time to masturbate again. It _had_ been a while…

He would see to that later. But in the hear―and―now, his erection wasn't going down as quick as he would have liked, and it sure didn't go away completely. It stayed at the pace of the conversation without burning out entirely, keeping just enough skin tight to keep his interest without turning him desperate. Zuko could still feel the throb, but it was less urgent now. He could concentrate. At least, he could without connecting every last thing in sexual reference.

Being half erect with only the lessened amount of stiffness he found to be quite satisfying in a…odd kind of way.

Iroh patted him gently on the shoulder. "You know that I am here to answer any question you might have, Zuko."

The young prince let out a faltering breath. He didn't know how he was going to get into a sexual conversation without coming off as too forward. Or completely awkward. Oh Uncle Iroh. Sometimes the man was just too friendly when it came to conversation. It left Zuko at a standstill. "I know, Uncle."

"More tea?"

Zuko felt his head bow in a simple nod. He didn't even need to move his cup, for Iroh had already taken it and was filling it to the brim. It was like his uncle had this 'on/off' switch with tea serving that just flipped randomly. It was a trait Zuko could remember him having as far back as he could remember. He imagined it was _his_ way of _dealing_. "Well, it's good to see you so open to kindness tonight, nephew. I cannot remember the last time we were able to sit and talk like this."

Zuko knew, somehow, he was to blame. "I'm sorry Uncle, for being such a pain."

Iroh smiled. "Come now, you've already apologized once. There is no need to do so again. Besides, you are no bother at all." Zuko had to strain his good ear to hear the next part. "At least, _I_ don't think so. The _crew_ on the other hand…"

"I know," Zuko started in a low voice, hunching his shoulders forward. "They all probably hate me …but…all that matters is catching the Avatar."

Iroh sighed. "Is that _really_ all that matters to you, Zuko?" Iroh had a kind of sadness swirling in those dark, amber eyes.

Suddenly, Zuko felt like a broken record. He was looking down into his cup, his voice cracking as he repeated his words like a mantra. "Of course. I have to get back all that I've lost. And I can't do it without the Avatar." He felt like the words were chosen for him. Each time the question arose, the same kind of answer would come out. He was beginning to doubt their whole journey. He could never let his uncle know, though. Zuko would be humiliated if anyone ever found out that he was anything but harsh under his unforgiving demeanor.

But Iroh could see the turmoil in his eyes. With another sigh, he stood to take his earlier position at Zuko's right side and busied himself with refilling his own cup.

"I have to," Zuko replied brokenly under his breath, feeling defeated. Years at sea had done nothing but dig a hole in his heart. He could feel the wound beginning to rupture. It burned within his chest until he placed a hand to it. _'It has to be my main goal, because I have nothing left without the Avatar.'_

He hadn't ever mentioned anything to anyone, but he was torn inside. It wasn't _just_ about honor. He'd been thrown out of his home and abandoned like an orphan at sea. His own father had scarred his face and given him promised years of anguish. His own father had banished him from the firenation. He was seen as a traitor; hated by all and unwelcome to most.

His only ray of hope had been in capturing the Avatar. He'd clung to that impossible goal like it really was attainable. The thought of having to live as an outcast out in the sea for the rest of his days…just wasn't appealing. He wasn't brilliant and gifted like his sister, but surely he was good for _something_.

But his father wouldn't listen unless Zuko brought him the Avatar. The choice had already been made. So now he was here, mostly alone and unapproachable. The thing that probably bugged Zuko the most was knowing that when they docked, his men would go out and enjoy themselves for a night or two. They had alcohol and women, and warm beds to sleep in with their chosen partners for the night.

Zuko had a metal bunker, his hand for company, and his uncle for conversation―who always insisted on stayed aboard the ship with him. The banished prince had a feeling it was out of pity. No one had ever taken any interest in him and his scarred face. He got awful stares, not flirty voices. Sure, he was still young, but didn't teens his age normally get _some_ kind of sexual attention? A wink would even be fine. But no― never at Zuko. It made him angry, but it also depressed him.

He watched Iroh sip his tea, debating. Zuko swallowed harshly.

He couldn't back down. Iroh would listen. And he would certainly never laugh. They were alone, and free to speak of whatever they chose. Zuko might as well continue their earlier conversation.

With his erection at bay, he found himself actively wondering how these kinds of issues affected other people. He never exactly asked anyone. And he wasn't exactly the epitome of all things alluring―being virginal and all.

Cocking his head a little, Zuko almost swallowed his question entirely before he saw his uncle. That warm look Iroh was currently giving him wasn't helping him much to back down. If there was one person he could ever trust to not laugh him into his grave, it was Iroh. He was also the only person Zuko felt like he could talk with on a personal level. His uncle had always been good with words, albeit mostly proverbs, but good none the less. Zuko found him an easy ally to talk to. It would come in handy, especially now.

And that massaging hand that had returned to his neck felt _so good_. He couldn't hold back the shudder as it washed over him, not being able to look at his uncle in fear of seeing the recognition in his eyes. Swallowing, he let out a shaky breath.

"Uncle…" He could feel a lump forming in his throat. He didn't favor it. The words were prying through his lips, and in a panic he realized he couldn't stop the question before he realized he'd already let it out. And he agonized over it once it slipped through his gritted teeth.

"...Do men…ever want other men?" He flushed, then added, "Women too?" Iroh would get what he meant.

Immediately Zuko wanted to slap his palm to his forehead. That wasn't how he wanted to begin this conversation. It was one of his questions, yes. But he was hoping more to build up to that awkward stage in the conversation, not have it break the ice so crushingly. His stomach churned when he felt his uncle's hand falter over his skin.

The question had caught Iroh off guard. He pulled his hand back and hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to handle it. He watched his nephew's hands take hold of his tea cup and bring it to his lips, trembling with what Iroh could only imagine to be apprehension. Iroh then he leaned over, as if to whisper a secret into the boy's ear. "Has something happened that I should know about, Prince Zuko?"

Tensing, Zuko nearly choked during a rather indulgent sip of tea. "What? No!"

Iroh found it a little odd, but he found himself well prepared to answer his nephew's question none the less. He suspected the curiosity might catch up with the young prince sooner or later with the situation he was forced into by his father's banishment. And if keeping him cooped up on a ship of all male crewmen didn't force Zuko's curiosities into active reality, Iroh had to wonder if Zuko had otherwise witnessed any of the men onboard indulging in the act themselves.

_Homosexuality, hm. A tricky subject, to be sure. _"Sometimes. There are, of course, the common paths a man or woman might take in any relationship; whether it be temporary or permanent. For example, many men of war choose to seek the company of others without the intention to love, for they never truly stay in one place for very long. To those men, their own pleasure is what is most important. The same could be said for their partner of choice. But there are those who genuinely fall in love."

Zuko fingered the rim of his cup absent mindedly. "…Do you think…they think about each other too? Not just touch but…imagine."

"Like fantasizing?"

Burying as much of his expression as he could in that tiny cup, Zuko nodded. He wasn't the most gifted conversationalist. The cup followed the movement. The scarred side of his face would surely hide the faint blush tinting his cheek. Too bad Iroh was no longer on that side.

"It would be difficult not to, if they enjoy each other's company as much." Iroh could tell Zuko was itching to say something, even with his shoulders slouched so much forward the joints nearly dislocated. Maybe… "Sometimes, it is much easier― and a lot safer―to fantasize. Your thoughts are of the utmost privacy; especially when you consider that no one else has to know what you are thinking unless you tell them. And physical needs are just as important as emotional ones. Your thoughts are what bring you a more realistic sense of mind when you cannot indulge in the physical act itself."

"…"

Iroh eyed his nephew's skittish expression. He looked very uncomfortable. "It is never a bad thing to want another's company, Zuko. No matter which gender they are, it is always nice to have someone close."

Zuko tried relaxing his shoulders, taking another sip of his tea. He stared at the nearly empty cup like it was the biggest black hole in the universe. He didn't dare look away. "…Would you…ever…choose the company of a man over a woman, Uncle?"

"Uh…" Iroh scratched the back of his head with a lopsided smile. So many eccentric questions his dear nephew had on his mind tonight. _Where is all of this coming from_, he wondered. Was it that _change _in a young teen's life? Ozai never really had '_The Talk'_ with him.

Iroh wanted to make sure to word whatever he was about to say out loud right, no matter what the case. "Well, I certainly prefer women. Although, I cannot say I could never love a man. It's all about what you're comfortable with. And so far, I have yet a moment in time to remember being attracted to a man. Not physically, anyway."

"I see…" Zuko looked off to the side, his fingers poking at the space beside the tea cup between them. He gave a momentary silence to clear the awkwardness, and Iroh had to wonder if Zuko had really been listening to the last bit of the conversation. When Zuko turned his gaze back at him, a calm depression settled between them. Iroh's heart became heavy at the look his nephew was harboring, as if a mass of crates had been mounted over his shoulders.

"Do you think...―" His sentence drifted off, a hand coming up to touch the rotten skin under his left eye. His fingers smudged the still greasy oil coating his cheek. Iroh didn't need to hear the remainder of his sentence to know what he was trying to ask.

Iroh knew then, that this wasn't a matter of mere curiosity in sexuality. He rested a hand on Zuko's sagging shoulder. "There are plenty of humble people out there who would look past something as insignificant as your scar, nephew. You are still very young, and you have every option available to you. Please don't ever feel like you have to settle for anything less than what you want. A scar should not define you; it is only a physical reminder of a moment in time." _Don't think that the only people capable of touching you are desperate, drunken men with no preferences for who's under them. Or over them._

"Most people look away." Sometimes he felt like his Uncle just didn't understand, despite the man's great social skills. Hell, how _could_ he when _his_ face was perfectly normal? "It's a repulsive thing to look at." _Either that or they stare in pity. It's all the same._

"They look away because they are simply not used to seeing such a vivid scar. But Zuko, please believe me when I say that you are no less attractive than any other man your age. You're becoming such a fine and charming young man. A little hot headed and brash, but I believe you will have less trouble than you think in finding someone who will accept you for who you are."

Zuko snorted, a chord struck, and slammed his fist down. The little splashes of leftover tea coated the tablecloth as his cup rolled. "What if I just want someone for a single night, like most of the crew when we dock at harbors? What if I don't want to spend the time to go through thousands of people just for a _single_ person who won't vomit just at the _thought_ of being that close to my face? Do you honestly think I'll be as easily accepted as anyone else with this _carnage_ on my face_? It's disgusting_."

The man grew silent. Zuko's chuckle was dark when he knew he'd stumped his uncle. Moments went by. He took a breath. His voice grew quiet, his head hanging forward. "I don't want to have to _rely_ on love. No one else has to."

Iroh sighed, knowing there was probably little he could do to change his nephew's mind. "I know, it's not easy."

"You know _nothing_." Oddly enough, he felt like crying. Where the urge came from he couldn't tell. "_You don't know what's it's like to lose everything_!"

Iroh was forced to watch, with saddened eyes, as his nephew rose up and stormed out the room. He lowered his head with a forlorn sigh before turning back to his tea. His voice took on a more mellow tone as he spoke out into the vacant room where Zuko's footsteps could no longer be heard in the hallway. "I _do_ know." His memories brought him back to his earlier days, with Lu Ten.

Iroh continued to drink his tea in silence. He could have spent his time pondering why his nephew had been such a rageaholic lately. But he was pretty sure he'd already solved a bit of that puzzle when Zuko had stormed off. He wasn't intentionally trying to spot it, but Iroh did notice was looked to be a bit of an erection underneath those firenation fabrics. The boy was probably just frustrated and needed a way to vent. Maybe giving him some space to 'deal' was the best thing right now. A little release of sexual tension and some well deserved sleep was always a good home remedy for a tense teenager on the edge of sanity.

Iroh smiled, pouring himself another warm cup of tea. Zuko would be just fine in a few hours, if not better. He could wait before he made his routine check up on the boy.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

His boots pad heavily as he stomps down the corridors. He was done talking about useless things. All it ever did was upset him. If anyone stirs during his physical tirade through the halls he doesn't care. He wants to be alone, but he'll certainly deal with anyone who decides to get between him and his own room. Amazingly, he can still feel the constriction in his groin despite his anger. It's a little surprising, considering he hasn't had a single sexual thought for quite a bit during his conversation with uncle Iroh. But it's not as surprising as the fact that he'd managed to keep it hidden for so long. Normally he had to deal with it right away. Maybe his restraint really was getting better.

He's had many accidents with getting overexcited at a single time, and often times having the need to ejaculate more than once a day. He'd been told by one of the doctors once he'd turned twelve that he might experience irregularity and an overabundance in sexual urges. And at the time Zuko had no idea what he was talking about. Until now.

The prince can't help but grin as he spots the closed door to his own quarters. This time, Zuko would be sure no one would interrupt him while he spent a little alone time to alleviate some of the tension. He made sure the door was securely shut and clamped tight against the metal jam once he was inside. His breath left him in a longing and anxious sigh as he leant against the metal door. His time would soon be spent masturbating so hard he could hardly stand it. Or at least, that was the plan. He wanted to raise the stakes a bit though; make it more interesting.

His eyes hastily scanned his room for anything that would catch his interest. Because when all you have is yourself to bring the pleasure, sometimes you have to be open to the oddities of eccentric toys, even if whatever you end up using would probably stun even the most perverse man in a brothel. The normal method of masturbation was just dull after a while― it wasn't enough. Sure, he'd still b e able to have his release, but it wouldn't be anywhere near as mind blowing as it could have been if he indulged.

Zuko huffed, heat spreading throughout his groin in waves. Reality that he was alone hit him. With just the promise of being touched, his erection was back full force. Only this time there was no belt to keep it from jutting fully up, and Zuko reached down and under his skirt-like battle robe to grip the hem of his pants and tear them down to his knees with such force the fabric nearly gets caught around the head of his erection. The throbbing flesh bounces back and wags in the air with heavy need. His upper half is still held back through his foremost layer of battle garb. He doesn't care to notice the bit of liquid that stains through the lighter fabric of his pants.

His next step is unclasping the armor from his upper body and pulling up over his head. It's carelessly tossed on to the floor before more of his clothes fall. In moments, he's left only in the delicate, fire retardant vest like undershirt and forearm cuffs. He still has his boots on, along with his pants which are still clinging to his knees. Other than that he's bare.

Looking down and breathing hard, he is fully able to gape at his own erection staring a little reservedly back up at him. It's jutting out proudly and arching upwards. Zuko likes to believe it's begging for his attention when he grabs it, jerking it out towards the right through a clenched hand. The stretch he felt radiated from just below the head, down just below the base. He silently wished he had more than the barely there bit of foreskin that stood a tad more lucid ―under the head of his erection― against his ministrations, cursing his royal heritage for a moment in time. He caught the skin between his finger tips, just below the head, and pinched. It was a short, pinprick of a pain, but it sent ripples of misguided pleasure straight into the pit of his stomach. A shuddering sigh escaped him as he leaned into his own hand. He found himself wondering what more pleasures he could bring had he more of that excess skin to roll within his fingertips. But the hard fact was that he didn't. And besides, thinking about it wasn't enough. He needed to _play_.

Temporarily letting his erection free, Zuko's eyes scanned the room. It was awfully barren of anything he could use to gratify his body's needs. A bed, candles for meditating, fire nation banners, and a glass window pane. Not much when he actually took the time to look around. Sure, he'd spent more than one night humping the uneven wall texture of his metal confinement with some kind of odd kink he'd acquired, but other than that and firebending―

His eyes shot over to the ground level table with the candles. He had _firebending_! It might have been tone of the most ridiculous notions to anyone else if they ever caught wind of it, and embarrassing for Zuko if anyone ever found out, but those kinds of thoughts didn't matter when his body ached like this.

With his wits about him, he walked forward, stumbling a bit to unclasp the small window's fastenings. He slid it half open. The frigid air permeated the warmth in the room instantly. The contrast was deliciously beautiful. He turned heel, walking before the table of candles that were set on a various array of fire nation printed cloths. His body gave off an involuntary shiver, and he was unsure whether it was from the cool air at his back and bare bottom, or anticipation.

He lit one of the candles with a flick of his finger, watching the flame build and blossom with his heavy breathing. His cock throbbed horribly when he neared the open flame. For a moment he debated on just how crazy the action was he was about to go through with, and how stupid it was if he slipped up and hurt himself. He'd have a fun time explain _that_ one to his uncle.

A fresh breeze of crisp air whipped at his back. He choked on a gasp and held himself while a shiver ran through him, groin forward, and high over the low flame. This would definitely be a first for him. Hopefully it was as enticing here as it was in his head. _Control_, he told himself, licking his lips. The flame ascended. It licked at the underside with a controlled sense of mild heat, intensifying only when Zuko's concentration faltered. The heat was teasing and wonderful. Not intense like he'd imagined, but if the flame got any closer it would probably burn the delicate and overly sensitive skin coating his penis. And he certainly wasn't a fan of that. So he allowed himself to roll his hips forward a few times over the flecks of heat in slow, lucid movements, enjoying the way the heat almost became unbearable before he pulled away and repeated the process. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling. Soon, his breathing began to change.

He let out a broken string of curt 'ah' sounds each time the flame came a little too high, his erection bouncing each time his body jerked. Too sensitive to the burning embers lifting from the unscented wax candle and already a little too warm from the exposure, the heat intensified a lot quicker. Still, he moved, letting the head of his cock take the brunt of the heat when the chill at his back intensified with a particularly brutal gust of wind. His tightening fist clenched and relaxed around the base a few times before he settled into a slow, short stroking rhythm that barely left from his hand's starting point. The flame took care of the rest toward the head. He went back to gripping the base in a pulsating manner only when he felt the pleasure escalate too rapidly in fear of a premature end to his fun. It gave him a nice, throbbing, dull kind of ache. He moaned a little too perversely for himself, finding he liked the sound of his own voice. He stopped a moment to squeeze his balls, feeling the skin surrounding them tighten against his touch. His knees tried to turn inward in a needy jerk, his teeth gnawing his lower lip.

Wavering eyes stared, half lidded, at the boiling flame that flickered beneath him. He was panting, heavily, his breaths coming out uneven and jerky. He tried to keep it controlled, reminding himself that it was all he needed to lose control over the flame that was currently bringing him this delectable torture. But his body was _burning_. Zuko reached out to steady himself against the wall with both hands. He was getting dangerously close. He could already feel the muscles in his backside tensing with each thrust of his hips. His balls felt unnaturally tight inside his sac, seeming to throb almost in time with the unconscious tensing in his anal sphincter muscle. His body was readying itself. Moving his feet, he tried to realign his standing posture above the table as best as he could with his pants still wrapped around him. Zuko easily pushed them to his ankles to allow better movement. He couldn't stop his feet from fidgeting, trying to misguide him from his more than awkward bending stance. The wind was getting colder against the back of his thighs, beating against the back of his balls and causing him to shiver. The overall room temperature was more frigid than when he first began. There was no denying that one.

He didn't speak. There were only a few breathy moans that slid past his lips while he allowed himself the simple pleasure of thrusting against his hand at the chill now surrounding him. He directed his penis down to dip a little closer into the dying flame once or twice through a captive breath, fighting to keep control. They were short thrusts; careful not to knock himself too far in to or away from the flame, but it intensified that wonderful feeling of mounting pleasure. He groaned, letting the air out a little too quickly and a little too forcefully.

Forgetting a moment too late that he should have pulled back just a tad, he hissed and recoiled when the flame nearly directly licked the tip and a good portion of the underside a bit too hotly. Although it had been a quick kind of searing pain, the pleasure it brought with it afterward was undeniable. His mind worked to steady both his breathing and a small descent in the flame while his thumb rubbed in circles over the mild wound it had caused. Zuko's mouth nearly watered. He used that same thumb to catch the tiny bouts of pre-cum and lubricate the pulsing organ in his hand. It was the first time he noticed that there were already a few drops of creamy pre-cum in a lazy pattern near the base of the candle itself. Zuko stuttered a broken moan; he ached for release.

And while part of him cried in excitement for the extremes to bring him over the edge of ecstasy, the rational part of him feared of what could happen when he lost that momentary control over the flame. He didn't want to have another permanent piece of charred flesh to deal with, _especially_ if it was his own penis. Foreplay with fire's all fine and dandy, but it wasn't worth it to risk permanent damage and prolonged pain for just a few moments of pleasure.

Zuko let his head fall back, raising his hand to smother the candle and relinquish its flame. It left his palm hot, his skin tingling. A fine layer of chilling bumps covered his skin as he shivered through the cold. His hips kept their slow rolling, dry humping the air, and pivoting oddly against a hand that refused to move on its own along his cock. Insanely, he wished it were colder. How desperately he found himself wanting to sit on a block of ice with the drastic temperature beating against his balls and backside, and letting his heated hand bring him into orgasm. It would be, with no doubt in his mind, complete rapture.

He had to settle though, on something more attainable. With the candle out and his body free from danger, he leaned a little closer over the table and spread his legs a little wider. The icy air swept easily through the better exposed crevices. Unable to stifle his moan of approval over the new, but embarrassing stance, he concentrated on the heat of the hand still over the flaxen candle. He waited until it darkened in hues of red; his finger tips a slightly more orange color. Switching his hands, with his cooler hand now against the wall, he quickly used his burning hand to swipe his palm across his erection. Breath caught in his throat, the pain a little too severe. He chanted to himself that it was only because the room was so cold. Secretly, he enjoyed it. He forced himself to keep his hand where it was, and not to pull it away.

In an odd sense of 'thrusting', Zuko continued to push his hips forward in short bursts, awkwardly bumping the head of his erection against his inward palm. The head rubbed generously over the too hot flesh, causing a whimpering, strangled moan to tear from his throat. Then, his resolve snapped. He almost fell over the table when he lost his footing, his forehead coming to rest against the wall. The hand that had been against the wall came down with eager, flexing fingers to stroke his length from base to mid length. He made sure to tighten his grip each time the path was repeated. His other was still rubbing heat over the head, his hand curling into a fist in desperate jerks. His body was all but against the wall, hovering non too attractively over the table.

His vision grew fuzzy with a sense of semi unconsciousness, his eyes remaining half lidded as his orgasm hit him hard. He fought to keep them open, watching how his vision doubled as the feeling in his groin intensified tenfold. What began as a desperate, shuddering whimper ended in a series of wavering, disgruntled grunting. Spasms wracked his body. Zuko couldn't stop himself from slamming his hips forward, thrust after thrust, with his face plastered against the wall. He was all but giving said wall a good case of mouth-to-mouth as he continued to pant against the cold metal, rubbing his nose and lips lazily against it in a haze of temporary bliss. He barely registered the action when he let his eyelids close, just for a moment. There was a faint droning in his good ear, his scarred ear losing function completely while he continued to remain oblivious. How his mind pleaded to feel someone― anyone―touching him, moving their hands all over his body, and to have a warm body moving against his trembling back. He wasn't sure where the need came from, but it would have been nice to actually feel it.

Zuko was still breathing heavy, trying to regain his composure when he registered the cooling wetness that threatened to fall from his fingertips. He straightened his neck with his forehead back against the wall. The muscles lining his backside were still clenching. He had to bite his tongue to keep from moaning when he gave himself a few more lazy jerks, eliciting simultaneous tensing in his groin and thighs. A weak spurt of semen splashed across his already coated fingers.

When he let go completely, his erection was still only half at attention than what it was a moment ago. Zuko brought both of his arms to rest at either side of his head against the wall, feeling the semen slid down his fingers and further into his palm. But he paid it no mind. He was still trying his best to keep himself up straight. It was hard when his legs wouldn't stop trembling. Never mind his position over the table.

"_Damn it_," Zuko cursed, reveling in the afterglow of one of the most mind blowing orgasms he's had in a long time. He could vaguely register the not-so-welcome-anymore chill coming from the window now. He cursed again, afraid that if he made a move to walk he would crumble to the floor.

He took his chances against the weather, and remained half against the wall. A calm washed over him. He felt oddly…_comfy_. Sighing in the afterglow, Zuko pulled a cum-coated hand up under his line of vision, staring it down. He continued to stare in silence for a while; fixated on something he was used to seeing come from a moment of passion. Then, he opened his mouth, the tips of his first three fingers sliding in. He'd only tasted himself a couple times before, and didn't particularly enjoy the taste. But there was something so sensual about how he envisioned himself licking his own semen from his fingers that he just couldn't toss away, as if he were trying to entertain a partner in the room. Only, he was alone.

Zuko waited until he came down from his high, sighing at the feel of his flaccid penis now hanging calmly between his thighs. He really needed to close that window.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

A/N: **Haters gonna' hate**. I love writing detailed kinks.

No but seriously, I'm stalling. The bit of incest I promised is a little…offsetting. I **will** write it though. I just…need time for my brain to get over the hissy-fit it's having about it. OTL


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